fightdrabbles

7

Tap Out presents: Cage Match Fight Night

Friday, July 19, 2013 @ 8:00pm

Borgata Hotel and Casino, Atlantic City

*******

Rhys ran through the first two competitors, knocking them out in the first round each leaving him with little to nothing else to do but watch the rest of the fights. His sparring buddy, Eric, was doing well, won both of his rounds as it were and then it was finally down to four fighters. Rhys, Eric, some Serbian guy and Joel. Eric and Joel went head to head, Joel came out on top. Rhys had mixed emotions. He trained Joel and they were blood but Eric was his boy, they fought together. And the Serb wasn’t much of a fight for Rhys. Two hits and he was out fucking cold. Concussion and all. 

Now it was down to Rhys and Joel.

He was sporting a bloody lip, Rhys was. Joel, nothing more then a split eye brow. Joel was already in the octagon waiting when Rhys was escorted inside. Nerves were bubbling up worse then ever. 

Ref brought the boys in, made them agree to the rules and Rhys and Joel touched gloves before returning to their slots. It was trainer vs. pupil. Cousin vs. cousin. Blood against blood. Their mothers would be torn. 

The bell was rung. Both men inched their ways toward the center. 

Thank god Rhys didn’t teach Joel everything he knew. The kid, he hated admitting it, was the best fighter he’s come across yet. 

Joel took the first swing, dodged by Rhys who knew it was coming because that’s what he taught him to do. Go for a punch before going for the tackle. (And that’s what Rhys feared. The holding part of MMA)

Joel read his mind, used his shoulder to jab into Rhys and attempted to knock him down to the ground on his ass but Rhys had better footing and stumbled backward, saved by the fencing. 

Tables turned. Rhys had his arm around Joel’s neck, the other fist punching hard into his little cousin’s face. Repeatedly. Ref came in and broke them up, Joel had a nice bloody lip. 

Rhys paced back and forth on his end of the ring like a lioness in wait, protecting her territory. (Yes Rhys considered himself a lioness, strong, fierce and matronly, protective) Joel was very much a hyena right now. 

The younger man came running into his cousin’s space again, going right for Rhys’ leg, cocked his hip and spun until he knocked Rhys down on his back. Joel straddled the man and went to hit him when two legs came out of nowhere around his neck and slammed him down on the mat. Now they were pretzeled. 

The bell rang again, round one was done and they’d only managed to wear themselves out. 

Rhys went to his ‘corner’ and while Vic and Mike slathered Vaseline on his face, moistening his wounds and thinner layers of skin, they did their usual pep talks Rhys preferred to ignore. (He hated that they were in there with him. He hated having a support team like this.) Small sips of water and Rhys glanced around finding Joe and Felix, side by side in the crowd. His heart panged. 

After making brief eye contact, he returned to his pep talk that would do no good. 

Joel was getting the same treatment, coddled, touched, talked up like he was the greatest. His ear was bleeding, his gums were bleeding, his throat was red and sore and he smiled and waved at Felix, promising to win this fight for him under his breath. 

Round two. 

More eventful this round. Someone had to get knocked out or tapped out and Rhys wasn’t one to tap. 

Joel landed a punch to Rhys’ jaw which was answered by Rhys using Joel’s head for bongo drums. Joel broke by kicking Rhis in the chest, sending him back into the fencing and then Joel was on him like white on rice, hitting, upper cutting, making his trainer his bitch just the way the man taught him. 

Good boy. 

Rhys dropped to the ground, a risky move, and rolled away. Black eyes would be imminent. His lips were more swollen then usual making the mouth guard a task to keep in. Blood was dripping over his face, down his chest and onto the mat. 

Joel came closer and Rhys mustered up all strength he could and landed a hard right hook to Joel’s face, landing him down on his back. 

Rhys swore he knocked his ass out. 

No. 

The bell rang again, ending round two. Didn’t they just get in there?

Rhys’ damage was assessed, mouth guard out, water splashed. His wounds were checked out and it was evident he’d need stitches on his eyebrow (which he wouldn’t get because real men don’t get stitches for fight wounds) and lip. “You can see the bone there man. It’s not too bad though.” Vic assured Rhys regarding the split flesh in his brow. 

“Yeah, whatever. Is he okay?” They might be fighting each other but Rhys didn’t want permanent damage to his cousin. He loved the kid. 

“Yeah yeah, man, he’s good. Just a little out of it. You could swing once more and have this shit made out. Try not to take anymore hits though." 

"Yeah, no I was going for the opposite there, Hawking." 

The bell rang and both men were at it again. Rhys held his hands up to Joel, letting him know he wasn’t about to attack. 

"You alright?” Because Joel would fight just to prove himself to Rhys and the marine didn’t want that at all. 

Kinda’ sore but I’m good, abuelo. Vamos!" 

Cocky son-of-a-bitch. 

Rhys kept steady breathing. His fists up by his face for quick blocking but it did no good for the move he wasn’t expecting. The move he never taught the kid. 

Joel came in with a leg sweep, knocking Rhys down to the mat and just like that, he saw the whole three rounds flash before his eyes. Joel was tiring him out just to get him down and force him out. 

Shit. 

Joel wrapped limbs around the larger man’s body, punning him. Legs around his hips, arms around his neck and arm so he couldn’t struggle his way out. Rhys was trapped. 

They rolled. They shifted. Joel wasn’t letting go. He was going to win. 

Tap out, Rhys. Just tap out.“ 

He could hear the boy’s voice easy and calm. That fucker wasn’t even worried. He knew. He knew

The lights were blinding. His face was swelling. Blood was trickling out of his nose, his mouth, an ear. There was no fighting it. He was either going to pass out and do more damage to himself or just tap. 

Good game Joel. You earned it. 

Rhys reached up and tapped his cousin’s shoulder, ending the pain and torment. He lost the moment he entered the octagon. 

Joel was declared the champ, arm raised in the air for a brief second before both men were hugging on each other, tears in both of their eyes. Rhys praised and congratulated Joel for winning so viciously. 

God he was pissed and so very proud all at the same time. Emotions ran high and thick. 

They both said they loved each other and Rhys left the ring so he could celebrate his victory.